“I’ve asked Ivy to join us,” he said, stalling for time. “I gather you met her at the Oat Maiden.”
Libertine nodded. “She’s been very nice to me. I don’t always get that.”
“Really?”
“It’s a hazard of my profession.”
“Oh?”
“You think I’m crazy.”
“The thought had occurred to me.”
She nodded sadly. “Most people do.”
From the reception area Truman heard a small yip and then Ivy swept into the room and summarily tossed Julio Iglesias into Libertine’s lap. “You may turn out to be the only person on earth he really likes,” Ivy told her.
“Well, he certainly doesn’t like me,” Truman said wryly, watching Julio Iglesias hop down, walk smartly to his desk, and pee on the leg.
“Oh, for god’s sake,” Ivy said. “Julio. Really?”
“He has puppy issues,” Libertine said while Ivy cleaned up the floor and desk with a baby wipe from her enormous tote.
“You’d better be careful, or I’ll send him home with you,” Ivy told her.
“No, no, we can help him work through them. He’s very smart, you know.”
“Well, he’s certainly smarter than me,” said Ivy. “I’m pretty sure we can all agree on which of us is winning.”
Truman gently cleared his throat.
“Sorry,” Ivy said, dropping the dirty baby wipes in Truman’s wastebasket, which in his eyes was only marginally better than having dog pee on his desk leg. Julio Iglesias hopped back into Libertine’s lap and looked at Ivy smugly.
“So what’s the deal here?” Ivy said.
“I’m not sure,” said Truman, addressing himself to Libertine. “Zoo security thought you might be trying to gain access to the pool without permission. The word skulking comes to mind.”
The woman blushed. “No, I would never skulk. I was just trying to check on him—you saw me there yourself when we met. It’s so crowded on the other side it’s hard to hear.”
“So I gather our whale talks to you,” Truman said, steepling his fingers over the tabletop.
“Something like that. I feel his feelings.”
“And how is he feeling?”
“I don’t know—he hasn’t been communicating since he got here.”
“Does that mean anything?”
“Just that he doesn’t need me to advocate for him right now. That’s good. Really good.”
“And you?” Truman asked her, not unkindly. “How are you feeling?”
“Better, too,” Libertine said, blushing. “He’s safe.”
“Really? I was under the impression you thought we were jailers.”
“He must sense that you’re good people.”
“So good jailers,” Truman said.
“I think that’s a little harsh, don’t you?” Ivy objected.
“Is it?”
“I told you this before: remember two little words,” Ivy said. “Martin. Choi.”
“Did he at least get the basics right?” Truman asked Libertine. “Because he doesn’t always.”
“More or less,” said Libertine. “Not really.”
“That all captivity is bad?”
“Absolutely not. I believe captivity is a blessing for animals who are captive-born, as long as they’re treated well. It’s animals who’ve come from the wild that have a harder time.”
“And that includes our whale?”
“I don’t know—I haven’t gotten to know him that well,” Libertine said, blushing deeply. “But he was wild-born.”
“Has he said anything to you about wanting to go home?” Ivy asked. “You know I worry.”
“No,” Libertine said. “The reporter played a little fast and loose with what I told him. Again, I haven’t heard anything from him since he arrived.”
“Martin Choi’s an idiot,” Ivy told her. “Just so you know.”
“I gathered,” said Libertine. “But thank you for telling me.”
“So what exactly did Friday tell you when he was still, ah, communicating?” Truman asked. “If it didn’t have to do with going back to the wild.”
“Stop,” Ivy warned him. “You’re being rude.”
Truman sighed. To Libertine he said, “I apologize—I have been rude. It’s just, you can probably understand our skepticism. Especially at a time like this and with an animal like this. For all we know, you’re trying to get access to him to sabotage us in some way.”
Libertine put her small hand on his wrist and said, “I would never do that—never ever. I probably can’t prove that to you, though.”
“No,” said Truman. “Probably not. But if I have your word, that means something.”
“You do,” Libertine said fervently. “You have my word.”
“Plus he’s being treated like a king,” Ivy told her reassuringly. “You should see his digs.”
“Oh!” said Libertine. “Oh, can I? I’d so love that! You can’t see anything from my car, and it’s hopeless in the visitors’ gallery.”
Truman sent Ivy death rays from his eyes. She smiled sweetly.
“I need to run it by Gabriel first,” Truman said. “I owe him that.”
“Well, of course you do!” said Ivy, grabbing the security radio from Truman’s desk and transmitting, “Ivy to Gabriel. Are you there?”
“Go for Gabriel,” responded a crackling voice.
“Can you come over here to Truman’s office?”
“Now?”
“Yes, please.”
“On my way.” Gabriel said. “Gabriel out.”
Truman dropped his head. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”
“I know, dear, but we both know you have a tendency to dither when you’re left to your own devices. It’s one of your less attractive qualities.”
“Clear and measured thought is not the same as—”
Ivy reached across the table and patted his hand. “Don’t fuss—we don’t choose the faults we come with.”
Ivy proceeded to engage Libertine in mindless chatter until Gabriel arrived, in boots, rubber overalls, and a rain slicker. The strong smell of fish instantly filled the room.
“Ah,” Ivy breathed. “Eau de poisson.”
Feeling that he had no choice but to press ahead, Truman called out the door to his receptionist, “Brenda would you bring in an extra chair, please? One of the plastic ones, not the upholstered.” Once a chair had been secured, he said to Gabriel, “Ms. Adagio would like to see the pool and Friday.”
Gabriel looked at Truman, appalled. “Is this the animal psychic?”
“Communicator,” said Libertine in a small voice.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Gabriel.
Truman said, “I’m not, actually.”
Gabriel shook his head, looked out the window for a minute before saying, “I’ve met a lot of so-called animal psychics—”
“Communicators,” said Ivy.
“—communicators,” Gabriel granted, “and all they’ve ever done was stir the pot. Things are hard enough with these animals. They’re usually very sick, scared, and alone, and they have no idea that without us they’d be dead. And then you bring in the media and propaganda and emotion that has nothing to do with these guys and everything to do with you. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but if you’ve heard voices, I guarantee you they weren’t his.”
Libertine held her ground. “I didn’t say anything about bringing in the media.”
“No? I read a newspaper article this morning with your name all over it.”
Truman, watching, saw the faintest flicker in her eyes. It could have been guilt, or it could have been something else. Gabriel had seen it, too. He said to Truman and Ivy, “You haven’t been through this before, so you don’t know, but that’s the way it’s done. The activists get an inside look and then they go straight to the media with allegations. From there, there’s no way to get the toothpaste back in the tube.”
“Don’t you think t
hat’s a bit harsh?” said Ivy.
“It’s all right,” said Libertine, and then, to Gabriel, “Most of what I communicate on behalf of my animals is very straightforward, mainly concerning food and safety.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Not this time—from what I read, you scored a political bull’s eye for the anticaptivity community.”
“I hear you talking to that whale constantly,” Ivy pointed out. “Constantly. How is that any different?”
“I don’t claim to know his inner thoughts, or expect him to know mine.”
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.
“Do you believe in God?” Libertine finally asked Gabriel.
“What?”
“Do you believe there’s such a thing as God.”
“I don’t know. Yes, sure.”
“And yet, you haven’t seen Him.”
“What does that have to do with your ability to communicate with animals? You can’t possibly mean you’re working for God?”
“Of course not. What I’m saying is, sometimes you have to take things on faith. I feel Friday. I can no more explain it than you can; all I know is, he’s chosen to confide in me. Maybe I can explain what you’re doing. If he’ll let me.”
“Which I’m totally in favor of,” said Ivy. “By the way.”
“If he’s even open to it,” Libertine said. “The fact is, he hasn’t been reaching out to me, which means right now he doesn’t need me. That’s to your credit.”
Gabriel turned to Truman. “Look, the decision’s obviously not mine, but we have too much work to do and too few people doing it to have someone I don’t trust in the first place taking up space or time.”
Truman took a long moment, looking out the window for a beat before turning back. “I appreciate your frankness,” he said. “All of you. Here’s what I’d like to do.” To Libertine he said, “Are you planning on staying in Bladenham for long?”
She nodded. “I feel I should, at least for now.”
“Are you willing to work while you’re here?”
She looked at him, confused. “Of course.”
“Then I’d like you to be a volunteer at Friday’s pool.”
Gabriel stared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“I’m not,” said Truman evenly. “If she wants to be near Friday, then she shouldn’t mind working for the privilege.” He turned back to Libertine. “But let’s be very clear. If you get argumentative, or if you try to influence anything about our rehabilitation program as Gabriel lays it out, no matter how minor, I’ll revoke your access immediately and permanently. I’m also going to ask you to sign a confidentiality agreement acknowledging that you are in no way authorized to speak to the media or to represent the zoo. No blogs, no Twitter, no Facebook, no anonymous tip-offs, no unattributed quotes, nada. If I so much as suspect you’ve been talking to the media or trying to manipulate public opinion, you’re gone. Does that seem fair?”
“Yes,” said Libertine.
Gabriel stood and walked out of the room without another word, emitting wave after wave of pissed-offness. Truman watched him leave and then said to Libertine and Ivy both, “Don’t give me any reason to regret this.”
He took down Libertine’s cell phone number and told her Gabriel would be in touch. Libertine thanked him profusely as she left. Ivy stayed on, crowing, “So you are your father’s son!”
Truman smiled sheepishly. “It seemed like a good idea. Now I just have to convince Gabriel to see it that way.”
“Let me help,” Ivy said, gathering up Julio Iglesias and stuffing him, flat-eared, into her tote.
“Gladly,” said Truman.
WEAVING THROUGH THE throngs of visitors heading to Friday’s viewing gallery and through two security gates, Ivy found Gabriel in the walk-in freezer, slamming around boxes of frozen herring.
“He’s either insane or he’s an idiot,” he fumed when he saw her.
“Actually, I think he’s brilliant. Haven’t you ever heard the old saying, ‘Hold your friends close and your enemies closer’?”
“Sure, but she’s a nut job. She’s going to be a pipeline straight from here into the activist camp. You don’t know what these people are capable of.”
“You know, I don’t think so. She may be misguided, but she’s very earnest. What she needs is a teacher, someone to interpret what you’re doing—and who’s better than you?”
Gabriel just shook his head. “I have to tell you, I’m strongly considering walking away.”
“What do you mean, walking away?”
Gabriel made two fingers walk along the food prep counter. “I’ve been in this business for a long time, longer than anyone except a handful of other old guys. We’re understaffed as it is. I don’t need the headache of having to babysit a lunatic who’s under my feet all day.”
Ivy regarded him blandly. “I assume you believe in what you’re doing here.”
“Absolutely.”
“Then for god’s sake stop pouting and take the high ground. She may be a nutcase, but she has Friday’s best interests in mind. So do you. That gives you common ground. Educate her about what you’re doing, and then put her to work helping to make it happen. It’s a strategy called co-opting, by the way. My brother, Truman’s father, does it better than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Gabriel stacked two boxes of frozen herring in Ivy’s arms. “Come on,” she wheedled, putting the boxes on the food prep counter. “She’s too socially awkward to be working on behalf of any group. Teach her what you know. If you can turn her around—and I know you can—think what an asset she could be later, if we need someone to run interference with the real crazies.”
Gabriel stared at her. Shaking his head, he said, “My God, you’re a wily old thing.”
“That I am,” she crowed, clapping him on the back. “That I am.”
GABRIEL WAS NOT a vitriolic man. He had opinions on many things, but he didn’t feel obligated to impart them. He readily accepted that other people had other viewpoints, and believed that for the most part the world was the better for it—except when it came to animal rights advocacy. On that topic he had waged and would wage war against those who believed that all captivity was bad. That was a load-of-crap opinion, held by the ignorant and anthropomorphically confused. More and more, the wild was not a safe place. Animals were regularly slaughtered in African sanctuaries, habitats were shrinking, and zoos were the last safe havens for dozens of species that would otherwise have disappeared already. The wild, in short, could be a place of wholesale peril and death.
As far as he was concerned, Libertine Adagio was embedded firmly in the traditions of wingnutism and lunacy. He’d met scores of people like her, been picketed by them, fought with them, even been threatened with bodily harm by them. In the 1970s—the Wild West of marine park development—when he’d been collecting animals for first-time exhibits, he’d traveled the world on behalf of a half-dozen marine parks, using false identities and passports because someone had put out a contract on him.
And now, thanks to Truman and Ivy tag-teaming him, one of the most objectionable weirdos he’d met in years was being welcomed into the bosom of the family. He drank through the evening, and by his fifth beer, he’d decided, for Friday’s sake, to stay. Before he could change his mind he called the number Libertine had given him, connecting to what he recognized as an even worse motel than his own. He had a sudden vision of her sitting all alone on a stove-in, spring-shot bed or bad upholstered chair marinated in years of cigarette smoke. She answered the phone on the first ring.
“Hey, this is Gabriel Jump.”
“Oh!”
“You know this is going to be really hard work, right? Hard physical work.”
“Yes. I do.”
“And you know you can’t slack off and blame it on the whale, saying he’s told you he’s tired or whatever.”
“Mr. Jump, you may not approve of what I do, but please give me some credit. I put myself through col
lege waiting tables at a truck stop near Bellingham. I’m not afraid of hard work. Nor am I an idiot.”
“Fair enough,” he said, giving her that much credit. Waitresses were among the most hardworking people he knew.
The line fell silent for several beats. “Hello?” said Gabriel.
“Hello,” she said.
“All right, listen. You’re going to need to go to Seattle Marine and Fishing Supply and pick up commercial grade, waterproof bib overalls and a rain slicker, and a pair of XtraTufs. Get the steel-toe ones. What size shoes do you wear?”
“Five and a half. Call it six, because no one ever has five and a halfs.”
“You could have trouble finding them that small, but don’t get kids’ ones even if they fit—they’re not going to have steel toes, and you’re going to want them, trust me. Get the smallest adult pair you can find and then buy a ton of socks.”
“Do you know how much this will cost?” she asked, and he could hear her voice falter.
“About three hundred bucks should cover it, three-fifty.”
The line went quiet.
“Is that a problem?” he said. He could be such a dick when he drank.
She answered quietly but with surprising dignity. “I don’t have three hundred dollars.”
He wasn’t a total dick, though; not even when he was drunk. “All you have to do is pick up what you need and tell them it goes on Ivy’s account. Ivy Levy.”
Her relief was palpable, even over the phone.
“And let’s have you start on Monday.”
“What time do you get in?”
“I pretty much live there. Let’s have you work eight to five, unless we have something special going on. Doable?”
“Absolutely.”
“All right then. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, and in her voice he heard the full-throated emotion most people reserved for lovers. “I’ll be there. You won’t regret this—taking me on, I mean.”
“We’ll see,” said Gabriel.
LIBERTINE’S FIRST ASSIGNMENT on Monday morning was to scrub every inch and tread of three used tires in graduated sizes—car, tractor, truck—that a local tire store had donated to the zoo and Gabriel intended to introduce into the pool as toys. “They need to be clean,” he’d told her. “Completely. He’s immune-suppressed, so we can’t afford to introduce any foreign pathogens into the pool.” He handed her a pack of twenty sponges, an industrial-sized can of scouring powder, and a pair of heavy-duty rubber gloves. Then he helped her haul the things to the pool top. There, three hours later, she knelt in a foul-smelling puddle of cleanser and rubber residue and reconstituted mud. She had only finished half the truck tire and thought her arms might break if her knees didn’t go first. She was not and never had been a physically strong person; men and even women usually sized her up and sprang to help her lift suitcases from airplane overhead compartments and baggage carousels.
Friday's Harbor: A Novel Page 10
